Chapter Two: She hates to be touched

In the hospital, Ara wakes up to greet her new environment with a look of confusion. Her pale green eyes sweep across the elegant room, searching for clues that might reveal where she was or why she was there.

"Where am I?" She speaks, her voice hoarse, low, and weak. Her throat hurts for some reason, and her lips feel parched. 

Her low, husky voice catches Eros’s attention. He rises from the chair where he had been waiting for her to wake, moving toward the bed with the silent grace of a jungle cat. His unhurried stride was soundless, so quiet that the young woman on the bed remained unaware of his presence until he spoke. 

"You are in the hospital, my sweet." He speaks in a cultured, cold tone.

Ara flinches at the sound of the deep baritone voice, her eyes snapping open in alarm. When they meet Eros’s gaze, fear flickers in their depths—raw and unguarded, her heart racing in her chest. 

Have they found me? She panics, her breathing falling fast, her fist clenching the sheets underneath her body. The need for escape grips her body, making her as stiff as a rod. 

The sight of Ara’s fear makes Eros’ chest tighten, a strange mix of sympathy and curiosity stirring within him as he wonders once more what horrors this young woman had endured.

His piercing blue eyes study her face, tracing every delicate feature before settling on a silent conclusion—she couldn’t be more than eighteen, perhaps even younger. Far too young, he thinks grimly, to bear the shadows of the hell etched into her eyes.

“Please, don’t be afraid. I mean you no harm,” Eros said softly, keeping his tone calm and steady, in a bid to ease her fear. He detests the sight of them, not in the eyes so young and innocent.

Despite his contrite effort to ease the girl’s fears, Ara watches him warily, tense and wide-eyed—like a frightened colt poised to flee at the slightest movement.

“Who are you?” Ara asks, her voice barely above a whisper as her eyes sweep over him, not in curiosity, but in a bid to judge if he means her harm or not. If there is one thing she has learned these past few years is never to trust anyone.

The man beside her bed stands tall and composed, dressed with effortless elegance that speaks of wealth and power. Everything about him—his posture, his clothes, the quiet confidence in his gaze—tells her he was someone important.

So why is he here? How did they meet? Lots of questions swirl around the blonde’s head, but the one she craves an answer to is the man’s identity. She has to know if he has any connections to Rex, the man hell bent on destroying her. 

The man she is running from. 

“My name is Eros.” 

A name doesn’t tell Ara much, and without her wolf, she can’t tell if he is human or not. A sad feeling grips her at the thought of her wolf. She was born wolfless, a thing that made her an abomination among her people, and the reason her mate hated her so much. 

To him, she was weak and useless. Not fit to rule by his side. Something he made sure she heard all the time and paid dearly for. 

Ara jumps when she feels something on her face, and immediately moves back, her eyes widening in panic. “Don’t touch me!” She snaps in fear, her eyes full of fear. 

Memories, all bad, come flooding into her system, and once again the need for escape is rejuvenated inside her. 

She can’t stay here. If Rex finds her, it will be her end. She looks down at her hand where the IV line is connected to the back of her hand and goes to detach it, but a hand over hers stops her. 

The sight of her tears makes Eros very uncomfortable. He has never been good with weepy females. Not knowing what to do to bring the blonde comfort, he decides to make it go away. If he can’t see the tears, then he will not feel this restless in his soul. 

He doesn’t know why the blonde’s sorrow troubles him this much. Even his beast, Kai, is restless and demanding to sweep the petite young woman into their arms and make her stop crying. 

Eros is not sure the skittish young woman would accept such a gesture, so he settles on cleaning the tears. He takes out his handkerchief and leans down to wipe the waterworks away from the blonde’s face. 

What he didn’t anticipate was the blonde’s reaction to the fleeting touch. Her exaggerated withdrawal shocks him, and before he could blink, the young woman is attempting to run. He reacts on instinct, not giving much thought to his actions. 

He places his hand on the blonde’s to stop her from disconnecting the IV line on her hand, and the same thing happens again, and when he looks up, the young woman has withdrawn to the head of the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest, hands wrapped tightly around them, body shaking, with wild and freaked out look on her face. 

Ara hates being touched. Especially by a man. Memories of big unwanted hands touching her places she doesn’t want to floods into her mind making her catatonic. 

Eros confused as to what is happening goes to reassure the blonde that he means her no harm, and she freaks out more at his approach, while screaming that he shouldn’t touch her. 

Ara couldn’t bear the thought of the imposing man getting close to her. His physical resemblance to Rex evoking memories she wants forgotten, memories that are like boogey men. 

Not knowing how to communicate her feelings, she settles on screaming. Maybe someone would run in and keep him away from her. 

Just as she wanted, her screaming got the attention of the nurses and doctors, and shortly after she began screaming, the door flew open, ushering in doctors and nurses with harried looks on their faces as they raced into her room, believing she was dying. 

They halt in the room when they find Ara hushed up in the bed, with no immediate threat to her. The lead doctor looks from the greatly frightened young woman to the imposing figure with her. 

“What happened, Mr Helix?” He enquires, keeping his voice respectful, with a hint of deference. 

He is aware of the powerful man’s reputation and believes he wouldn’t harm the young woman without cause, so it has to be something else that has his patient wailing down the roof.

Eros standing beside the bed with a bewildered look on his face turns to look at the doctor, not sure how to answer his question. 

“I don’t know.” He phrases his answer as if asking a question. Honestly, he has never encountered a situation like this. 

The doctor blinks when he sees the look on Eros' face. He has never seen the man lose his composure, and for a secon,d he finds his perplexed look amusing and smiles inwardly, but sure enough keeps it off his face. 

“I will handle it,” the doctor says, and reverts his attention to Ara. He notices that the young blonde is not allowing any of his colleagues to get near her. He studies the situation and realizes what is going on. 

“Everybody stop!” He instructs, halting every action going on in the room, and even Ara’s wail to be left alone quietens, turning into sniffles as the hands trying to help her disappear. 

“Everyone leave,” he orders, and they do as he instructed. Everyone, except Eros. The doctor looks at him, his expression indicating he wants him to leave as well, but Eros shakes his head and utters with a note of finality in his voice. 

“I am not leaving.”